


Wixzeon and The One from Spider Lily

by Akabara_13



Series: Changing Days [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akabara_13/pseuds/Akabara_13
Summary: Wizxeon meets the one from Spider Lily.





	1. Class

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be about three parts. No guarantees.

Wixzeon looked at the room of teenagers, dressed in bright colors of different clans. “Welcome! My name is Wixzeon. I will be your teacher for your stay in Clover. While you are here, you will be expected to study, attend classes, and spar with one another. After all, you are the best and brightest of your clans, and as such, here to impart knowledge on one another. Just a few notes before we began. While sparing is allowed and encouraged, one or more supervisors must be present. Supervisors can step in at anytime to stop a match, if they feel something has gone to far. Not listening to the supervisor will get you severely punished.

“Anyone can be challenged. You can even place bets or ask for prizes, but this must be agreed upon by all parties,” Wixzeon said pacing as he explained. “After all you are teenagers, you will be making a bets, minus well make it legal.

“Organization of hunting night creatures is fine, as long as you invite a supervisor. You getting killed by night creatures is not good. I think that covers the most important details of your stay. Any questions?” Wixzeon looked over the room. The one clad in red held up her hand, he acknowledged her, “Yes, Disciple Lily?”

She stood, “This one might be out of place to ask, but why Master are you so familiar with us? Master introduced himself by his given name.”

“That I did. I’m not much for pomp and circumstance or formality. If you have a problem with it, well I don’t much care. You can call me Wixzeon, or Wix. You can throw a Master in their if you're so inclined. Do not call me Clover, that is not my name,” his calm voice filled the room. 

“Master is a part of Clover, yet doesn't carry the Clover name?” the words tumbled from her mouth without thought, her hands shot to cover her mouth.

“Heh! Embarrassed yourself did you? But that is right, I do not carry the Clover name. I only belong to Clover by association. This is hardly about me, Now, have a seat,” he still wore a smile as he turned back to the class. The Spider Lily disciple sat down cheeks flushed. “Also, if you wish to complain about me, have at it.” The class continued uninterrupted.


	2. A Duel

After the class and before dinner, Rula approached Wixzeon, “Master said anyone could be challenged to a duel.”

 

“Disciple Lily,” he said softly, stepping down off the porch. “That is true, I did say that. As long as the rules are followed, anyone may be challenged.”

 

“Does that extend to Master as well?” she asked .

 

A smile spread on his lips, “It does. Do you wish to challenge me? Do you think you can beat me?”

 

“Don’t underestimate me, Master! My father has trained me to be the best,” she retorted.

 

“That I will believe. You are a fiery spirit just like Zion.”

 

“Do not speak so casually of my father and Spider Lily’s Leader!” her hand reaching for her sword’s hilt.

 

“Now, now, no need to be in a rush. Me and Zion have met before, I have beat him more than once. What are you hoping to gain?” his voice coy.

 

She looked him in the eye, “I want to know who Master is. I want to know the truth.”

 

Wixzeon’s smile fell away, “That so? Well then, who shall we get to supervise? Dear Husband would do it,” he turned to gesture at the man behind him. “If that is ok with you, Disciple?”

 

“If Master thinks him appropriate, then so will I.”

 

“Alright,” he said, “First move is yours.”

 

“Master!” she said rushing forward, the instant she was in reach, he quick drew the blade at his hip. She dodged by the skin of her teeth. She retaliated, but her blade was blocked by his. They traded blows but Rula was slowly forced back, he brought his blade to her neck.

 

“You have talent,” he said softly, “Zion taught you well, but this is my win.” He sheathed his blade and walked away.

 

Rula collapsed to her knees, disappointed she lost.

 

* * *

 

The man he called Dear Husband, wrapped his arm around Wixzeon’s waist as he turned a corner. Wixzeon leaned heavily on Marcel, and gripped his chest, “Sorry, Marcel. I know I shouldn’t have used spirit energy, but…”

 

“I know,” he said simply. “Everything you do has meaning. I know you try hard for us, I know what you did was for her. But secrets can’t be kept forever, Wix.”

 

“I know, but I will keep it as long as I am able.” His eyes slipped closed. Marcel lifted him up taking him back to their room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minus well had said insert epic fight scene here, the victor is Wixzeon.


	3. Broken Core and Friendship

It was early, when Reim came to the class, “Class has been canceled today. Master Wix is unwell.”

 

Rula looked up at the Clover Disciple, as he turned to go, she rushed after, “Master is unwell?”

 

“Yes, nothing to concern yourself with. People get sick, no?” his smile did not quite reach his eyes.

 

“It’s not that common for those cultivate. Developed cores help protect the body from minor ailments,” she said, her eyes baring down on him.

 

He nodded in replay, “Yes, that is true, isn’t it?”

 

“Master is quite odd,” she muttered. “He is so familiar, he knows cultivation, yet seems to not possess much himself.”

 

“He is familiar with people because that is who he is. He is from far away, according to him, and that is how they are where he is from,” Reim supplied. “If you will excuse me, I have things to attend to,” he gave her a slight bow. “Use your day wisely.”

 

She watched him go, she wondered around Clover. She had no real destination in mind, just lost in thought. Before she realized it she was in the residential quarters of Clover. “Young Master Wixzeon, it’s getting worse.”

 

“I figured,” he bubbly voice replied. Rula realized where she was, outside Master Wixzeon’s room. “It’s not surprising.”

 

She glanced into the room through a window. Inside she saw several people, a few doctors, the man named Marcel, and Clover’s Leader, Marci. They were standing around the young man in the bed, his night robs pulled down to his waist as the doctors examined him. His eyes met hers, but he said nothing to her, just smiled. She ducked down quickly, as the voices started again.

 

“You have to cause trouble,” Marci quipped, “Don’t you?”

 

“Well, you know, Marci, my honor was at stake!” he shot back.

 

“What honor?” asked Marcel, helping him readjust his robes, as the doctors prepared to leave. 

 

“I’m hurt, Dear Husband. I have honor…” he pouted. Marcel kissed his brow, and Wixzeon beamed at the affection. 

 

“Master Wixzeon, we will do another transfusion tomorrow morning, if needed. Please let us know if you are feeling unwell. It goes without say, you should avoid using spirit energy,” the head doctor said with a bow.

 

The three bowed to them, “Thank you.”

 

Marci spoke next, “Rest for the day, Wix. I sent Reim to the class to dismiss them, so no need to worry. I have some things I need to attend to. I will be back later today,” she gave a slight nod, before turning to leave them.

 

“Marcel, I know you have things to do. I’ll be fine, I promise,” he said softly.

 

Marcel sat on the bed beside him, “Those things can wait. My husband is hurting.”

 

“Your too good to me,” he said softly. “Will you get me something to eat?” Marcel’s eyes narrowed on him, but he nodded anyhow. “Thank you, Marcel.” Once gone, he looked to the window, “Interloper, you can come in now, if you wish. Just me here.”

 

A few seconds passed before she came through the window, “Sorry… I eavesdropped.”

 

“I don’t really care. It’s not secret that I am unwell. What can I help you with?”

 

Rula saw the deep shadows in his eyes, “Master is having spirit energy transfusions. I didn’t mean to see, but… those bruises…”

 

“Yes, that is what happens with repeated transfusions,” he replied tiredly.

 

She bit her lip, “Then… There is damage to Master’s core…”

 

He sighed, “Zion taught you about that too, huh? Yes, that’s right. My core is damaged, has been since I was 16.”

 

“Why does Master speak of father for informally? He doesn’t even let me call him dad. Surely, only mother could call him by name,” she said looking at him.

 

He met her gaze then looked to the window, “Zion use to like to be called informally, but not in a long time. It has to do with his brother. I would assume you didn’t even know he had one, did you?” Rula shook her head. He sighed in return, “His brother is dead, as far as Zion is concerned. I’ve known him quite along time, before he and his brother had their falling out. That’s why I call him ‘Zion,’ our friend group called each other by name. Though, that time is long gone. We scattered to the wind shortly after their falling out. I haven’t seen Zion since then.”

 

“Does father know you are unwell?” she asked, concern in those bright eyes.

 

“He does.”

 

“Then why?” tear bubbled in her eyes, “Doesn’t he come to see Master? You were friends right, Master?”

 

He reached up and wiped away her tears, “See, ‘were’ is the key word. Past tense. Rula, friends come and, as much as we hate it, sometimes they go. The five of us, we were only compatible as a team it seems, once one left, the other’s folded. Do not blame your father, Rula, we are all at fault. I ended up here. I only know of Zion because of his position. The other three, might be dead, for all I know. That’s just how childhood goes sometimes. You never want to be separated, but the fates have other plains.” He leaned against the headboard, his voice was cracking and bitter, “And it sucks.” 

 

“That’s why Spider Lily Disciples are discouraged from studying here? He doesn’t want us to meet you, Master. That’s not fair,” she said softly.

 

“Rula, there is no such thing as fair. You lose things you wish you could keep, keep things you wish you could lose. Cherish what you have, while you have it. Remember it fondly when it is gone, and keep moving, because time still moves. If you stop moving, you might miss your chance to find see something new.” Just then the door slid open and Marcel came in with a plate of food. A genuine smile, though a bit sad, spread across his face, “Dear Husband! Thank you.”

 

“Lady Lily, good morning,” Marcel bowed slightly to her before passing the food to Wixzeon. 

 

“Master Marcel, good morning,” she said bowing. She stood quite a moment longer then turned to her master, bowing, “Master, I want to talk to my father about Master, when I go home for break.”

 

He flinched slightly, “I would advise you against that, but I cannot stop you. Do as you will, Rula.”

 

“I will, because Master is hurting from it. Master indulged this foolish disciple when she called Master out in class and in a duel. She should do something in return.”

 

He smiled so kindly at her, it was full of sorrow and gratefulness, “I merely did as a master should. It is not the place of children to fix adults’ problems.”

 

She took a knee before him, gently, as is if he was made of glass, took his hand in her’s, “Maybe not, but people who have been helped should help in return, right? Not only that, those who can help, should, that is the responsibility of those with the ability. Those are Master’s lessons, right?” She let go, “Thank you for telling me about father, Wixzeon. I will go and let you rest.”

 

Once she was gone, Wixzeon found himself wiping tears from his own eyes. It wasn’t that no one had ever offered to talk to Zion on his behalf. Marcel and Marci had tried more times than he could count. Reim had as well. He, himself, had even tried, but Zion would not see him. He could not help to hope. “She said my name like him… Her words… are like his.” He rubbed at the tears that would not stop overflowing and that slowly becoming hysterical cries.

 

Marcel draw him close, “Yes, she is very much like how her father was. Try to calm yourself, Wix. Hysterics are not good for your core, my dear.”  He infused calm spirit energy, but when that failed to calm his dear one, he pressed a pressure point, causing Wixzeon’s eyelids to droop and drift into sleep. He drew him as close as he could, begging any god who would listen, to lessen his husband’s burden.

 

* * *

 

Leaned against the outer wall, Rula listened to those broken cries and hushed reassurances. They steeled her determination, after all, she had come to meet him. She walked back to the dorms, there was a few weeks before break, she needed to think how to approach her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm done with this leg of the story and call it complete, but more could be added later.


End file.
